can’t leave Almwyk. I have no money; I have nowhere to go. I have to wait for my brother; he might not be able to find us if we leave. But mostly, I can’t leave because of my mother. Because I have no way to get her out of the house without her being seen. And she can’t be seen. Not as she is.
The soldiers finally restore order but the atmosphere is mutinous, mutterings rumbling across the room like thunder. Unwin looks down at us all with false pity in his eyes.
“I understand you’re upset to have to leave your homes,” he says smoothly. “The decree from the Council says that you’ll be welcomed as a priority at the new refugee camp outside of Tyrwhitt if you have nowhere to go. No questions asked. Just make sure to have your papers stamped by myself so they know you’re Tregellian, and not seeking asylum from Lormere.”
“Camps won’t keep us safe,” a voice pipes up from the middle of the room, Old Samm I think – an irrepressible gambler, but nice enough. “We can’t be expected to survive winter in tents, let alone a winter under attack if the Sleeping Prince comes.”
“By all means, you’re free to go elsewhere in the realm if you wish,” Unwin sneers. “The camps are merely an option for those who have nowhere to go, and no desire to be jailed for vagrancy. Or anything else.”
Again the atmosphere thickens with threatened rebellion. He knows that none of us would live here if we had anywhere else to go.
“So that’s it?” Old Samm continues. “We’re to be thrown out, unprotected?”
“This is war,” Unwin says with an air of drama, glancing around at the soldiers, trying to make eye contact with them. I like them a little better when their faces remain stony, refusing him the approval he’s looking for. “This is war,” Unwin repeats. “There are no easy roads from here on. We all must make sacrifices. Almwyk will be the base from which the whole of Tregellan is defended by our finest soldiers.”
“How will they protect us from golems?” Old Samm says, and Unwin looks to the soldiers again to help him. But it’s too late; the mention of golems sends a tremor through the room and suddenly everyone is back on their feet. “How are they supposed to defend us against monsters that can’t be killed? They’re ten feet tall and made of stone. Boy soldiers won’t stop them.” His words begin a flood of other voices, all of them terrified.
“I heard the Sleeping Prince can turn a man to stone by looking at him. Is it true? Is that how he makes his army? Are they people he’s bespelled? Will our amulets protect us?”
“We don’t have any temples; surely he’ll leave us be?”
“I heard he’s demanding a tax, paid in young women, and that he’ll eat their hearts,” a female voice calls, shrill with fear.
“Well, you’ll be all right then, you’ve not been young for a good thirty harvests,” someone bellows back at her.
“Does the holly work for ever?” another voice shouts. “Do the berries need to be fresh? If I wear the juices, will that help repel him?”
“Can’t we offer him something? Do we have nothing he wants?”
The noise level rises again as people shout their questions, pleading for answers or yelling abuse, and the soldiers step forward menacingly, hands on the hilts of their swords. But the villagers will not be cowed. Their voices get louder and louder, they stand on their chairs, and I can’t take it any more. I climb over the back of the bench, skirt down the side of the wall and out of the door.
I pause to lean against the pillory outside the House of Justice, my heart beating so fast I feel nauseous, my skin flushing warm and then turning cold. Above me the sun is starting to dip down towards the horizon, and dread curdles inside me. It’ll be dark soon. I need to make my mother her sedative. I need to find Silas and get the money for Unwin.
I need my father and brother to be here.
No. I push that thought away as my heart trips over itself. Not now. I have things to do.
But my body doesn’t obey me, and fear makes a corset around my ribs as I walk blindly back towards the cottage, ignoring the stares of two passing soldiers, marching towards the woods.